notes of happiness
by snidgetwings
Summary: Ironically, he is following in the footsteps of his mother. Seeing sights and wonders around the world alone. Future-fic, one-shot, Misaki/Usui


This is a future-fic where Usui has gone in hiding to avoid his family's demands. The characters may not be very well fleshed out, but are hopefully still recognizable.

* * *

**notes of happiness  
**

Ironically, he is following in the footsteps of his mother. Seeing sights and wonders around the world alone. He snaps a shot of himself with the pyramids (it is way too hot) before imagining Misaki's reaction to the monuments. She would be excited, he thinks, certainly not bothered by the heat like himself. She would also insist on exploring the (poorly reinforced, he observes) caverns until they collapsed from her exuberance. Perhaps it is a blessing that she is not here with him (a blessing to be apart? He squashes the thought).

It's been over six months since he last saw her, and the postcards are piling up. Unfortunately, it will give away his location if he sends them; in fact, all communication is limited while he is abroad. His steps are light however, as he walks into a town he has not yet explored and picks a hotel for its bright yellow trim. Their next rendezvous is approaching, and he thinks she will like the location. After light negotiation, he is able to secure a small, dimly lit room, sparse in furnishings, reminiscent of his (their) old apartment. His pack drops with a soft thump before he surveys the room.

"Feels like home, ne?"

* * *

Misaki can feel a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Abruptly, she sets her face back to the stern expression she normally received monthly activity reports with. She will be free to fantasize about her coming vacation once she is back in her (their) apartment.

She clears her throat. "Aa, that sounds good. Just leave the report with me. I think we all need an early day off, don't we?" She smiles a little to make her suggestion more convincing.

Her subordinates for their part, look somewhat bewildered but recover well.

"Uh, thank you Ayuzawa-san. We'll see you next week!" They hurriedly make their retreat, grinning at their unexpected luck.

Misaki doesn't bother to correct them. She will be on leave next week, but the less people who know, the better.

* * *

The apartment looks about the same as when he lived in it, but with a few additions. Misaki had refused to sleep without a bed, and while the perverted alien could manage without a desk, she had brought her old desk as well. The high rise is more expensive than she likes and a bit far from her work, but she keeps it to stay close to her family (_not_ for the memories of him it contained). Her luggage is packed, and she decides that bringing a small watermelon to the family dinner will be infinitely better than whatever she might produce with the stove.

* * *

"Welcome, onee-chan!"

Misaki tightens her hold on the watermelon (lest it fall and ruin her sentiment) while Shintani gives her a bear hug.

"Aa, where's okaa-san?"

"She's with Suzuna in the kitchen." He (chivalrously, because everything he does carries an underlying respect towards the opposite sex) takes the watermelon from her as she removes her shoes. "They said you should just sit down and let them handle it."

Misaki grins wryly. "How kind of them."

"They don't mean that—"

She shakes her head. "Don't worry about it. Anyway, how is your business going?" She settles on the floor as he regales her on his expanding business which helps small family farms find potential markets and buyers, his descriptions helped along by large sweeps of his arm.

Soon, the family is arranged around the dinner table, Mother across from her and Suzuna (modestly) across from Shintani (though Misaki does not miss when he touches her shoulder and she smiles in reply).

"I'll be traveling next week." She pauses to see her family's response and is not disappointed. Mother stops eating with a gasp of concern, Suzuna looks at her with just a tinge of seriousness in her usual apathetic gaze, and Shintani decides to take another (and another) bite before speaking.

"You'll be seeing him again?" Misaki nods. "Be careful." It is one of those earnest moments where she can see Shintani's desire to protect his loved ones, and she is grateful that he will be here to watch her sister and mother.

"I'll give you the neck cushion I won the other day." It's funny that Suzuna still enters prize lotteries (when their family is finally living without the constant need to count their spending), but it's much preferable to her annual gambling week. Misaki scowls inwardly as she remembers Suzuna's "frivolous habit," but her concern is uncalled for; Suzuna's annual week strikes fear into the hearts of the casino owners (despite the cap they impose on her winnings).

"Be careful, okaa-san. And if you see anything or anyone suspicious, be sure to tell Shintani." Mother looks as though she wants to worry too (though for Misaki, not for herself), but surprises Misaki when she speaks.

"Have a good time, Misaki."

* * *

It's rather isolated, Usui thinks. But maybe that is good. He sits in an airy hotel suite on the southern coast of Italy. He's made sure to cover his tracks, but has also bought two tickets, one to India, another to Australia, in the event that his latest fake identity has been discovered.

She's late again, he thinks, and smirks.

* * *

Frantic thumps alert him of her arrival and he stands, struggling not to laugh as sounds of her battle with the lock floats past the door.

"Usui, are you—" Misaki lets the door swing shut as she stares at him. It is a relief just to stare, to see that he was alive and whole (slightly tanned from his most recent trip—somewhere warm and dry, she muses), and a small glint from a ring he always keeps around his neck.

"Usui." Her voice stops as though any breath would shatter the illusion, but then he is suddenly in front of her, then engulfing her, and she returns the embrace with a sigh. She feels his hands move to a familiar position around her face and neck and tilts her head obligingly. His lips move a bit more forcefully than usual—the separation has been just as hard on him—and she threads her fingers through his (still soft) hair. They finally separate for a breath, but still close enough for her to feel his smile.

"Tadaima."

* * *

The next few days they spend together, doing whatever (Usui's) whim takes them. One day they spend just indoors with each other, her head in his lap as she reads and laughs over the postcards he's written for her. Another day, they go down to the edge of the water and enjoy the sun (though Usui brings a giant umbrella and lounges in the shade). They also venture to the tourist cities along the coast ("We'll look just like the other tourists," Usui argues with the puppy dog look on his face), where they admire lemons the size of footballs and (Misaki) chokes down "lemon flavored _rocket fuel_." She wonders how he manages to take his cup without a grimace, but he smiles and says it's a secret.

Nights are spent in their suite, where he (and sometimes she) whispers sweet nothings and the blanket slides off the bed unnoticed. Afterwards, she wakes to beautiful sunrises and his arm around her waist and she smilingly waits for him to wake (though sometimes she gets impatient—it _is_ almost noon!—and wakes him with a shout). During the time he sleeps, she thanks whatever higher power for their luck, that this time there is no contingent of guards bursting through the door, no need for Usui to jump through a window several stories high with only a wad of money in his pocket, and no anxiety as she pulls on a poker face while sitting on a slip of paper with their next meeting address, feigning calm while holding a sheet around her body.

Their last night together, she doesn't sleep yet. She decides she'll use this time to take her fill of his features since he always leaves before she wakes. She knows she will eventually fall asleep and awake to a disposable camera, a stack of postcards, and a small piece of paper with his next promise to meet again. It will be arranged almost artistically (though he would laughingly say she has no artistic eye at all) on the table, casting soft purple shadows in the early morning light.

"What are you thinking?" His sleepy rumble startles her. His hand rubs comfortingly along her arm though his eyes remain closed.

Her exhale stirs his hair and somehow, he knows that she will say something serious. His eyes open to regard her steadily.

"I wish I had a part of you with me while you are gone." She's nervous, but just barely, too tired to fidget, so only her pulse betrays her, but he knows.

"That's what the postcards and pictures are for, right?" He's dodging the issue, because he already knows what she's trying to say.

Misaki is blunt though (as usual, he observes fondly, and with some exasperation) and bulldozes through anyways. "Don't you want to have a child? A son with your hair—"

"Or a daughter with your eyes." He brings her head to his chest, where she can feel his words like tiny earthquakes. "Haven't we had this talk before?" She nods, but stays silent, an indication that he should continue. "I would love to, but I don't want our child to endure a situation like mine; where the best he or she will receive is a broken family with legacy issues." His hold tightens on her as his thoughts shift to his relatives. "When this is over, I promise we _will_ start our own family."

She notices that he says _when_, but she can't imagine _how_ (and he must be overly optimistic, or merely trying to placate her, or something else absurd—)

"How can you _say_ that?" And suddenly, she is straddling his waist, her fists pounding half-heartedly on his chest, because it is impossible (despite how mad she is) to hurt him. "What can you _do_? The reason we are here is because we _couldn't_ do anything!" The sudden rage has left already (they have so little time together, why waste it on anger?) and she falls back to her side of the bed, her eyes shinier than before, but her face is dry.

"I've been…." He's searching for something that won't get her hopes up. "…working on it. Talking to a few contacts here and there." He's purposely vague because he knows her attitude towards _him_.

"Igarashi?" She's glaring again, but the anger is not for Usui, just a residual hatred ("Dislike!" she'll protest) for the now very powerful CEO.

"He _did_ get us the fake passports." His grin is crooked—he is also loath to rely on such a dangerous ally, but pickings are slim (actually, "nonexistent, except for me," he'd sneered). "He'll help us if I give him half the shares to my family's company." Misaki's brow wrinkles the same way it does when she contemplates a particularly complicated math problem and Usui refrains from kissing it.

"He's satisfied with just half?"

"I offered the entire company, but he claimed it would be too much of a hassle to run two at the same time. He wants me to lead it, but he'll have indirect control." Usui's tone takes that of his most unconcerned, and Misaki knows he has not thought much about the implied responsibilities. She's frowning and opening her mouth to protest, but he beats her. "I might be able to handle it if I hired a very capable…President."

Now her mouth is open in astonishment. "Are you offering me a job?" Her tone is half amused, half feigned anger. "You're not even employed yet!" But her eyes are shining with hope now, hope for a time when they will be together in her (their) apartment again, hope for happiness not hidden between months and months, and Usui hopes that it will not disappear (that he will not cause it to disappear).

"If all goes well." He brings her knuckles to his lips softly, and they both know the conversation is over, that he has only a few hours before he must disappear again, untraceable, and she a few more to reach the airport and return to her discreet life in Japan.

When her eyes open again, he is gone, and only a small indentation in the pillow beside her and some residual warmth suggests that they had been together. She looks for the paper with the address (a treasure far greater than the pictures or postcards) and reads:

_Tokyo, soon_.

* * *

Thanks so much for reading!

notes:

1) yes, Shintani married Suzuna

2) Igarashi Tora in this fic is just a somewhat ill-meaning rich guy with a lot of time on his hands. He probably enjoys seeing things out of the ordinary. In my mind, it's like an experiment for him, to help Misaki and Usui along and see what happens to that rich, distinguished family

3) the "lemon flavored rocket fuel" is very strong limoncello

Feel free to ask if I haven't clarified anything enough!

Suggestions and criticisms welcome.


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